More
by euphematic
Summary: It was definitely not love at first sight, but it was something.    Rachel/Blaine. Raine? Blainchel? Whatever you want to call them.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: First foray into fanfiction. I saw the preview for BIOTA and really dug the idea of Blaine/Rachel even though I just love Faberry, so I wrote this. I've been toying with the idea of writing on here for a while, so I finally did. I don't know if this will be a one shot or if I should keep going, so let me know if you have an opinion on that. Enjoy!**

**I do not own Glee.**

It was definitely not love at first sight. The first time he saw her, the last thing on his mind was romance. It was sectionals, and he had to get Kurt to come backstage so he wouldn't miss the Warblers' pre-performance ritual. He had found him in the lobby area, talking animatedly with a short brunette. He promptly approached them, told Kurt to get a move on, and flashed her a quick, friendly grin accompanied by an equally quick, friendly "Hey".

He saw her on stage during New Directions' performance, but all she did was sway in the back. He decided she wasn't anything particularly special.

And that was it.

The second time he saw her was at the Lima Bean. This time, he was introduced. Rachel, he learned was an ex-classmate of Kurt's. She seemed nice enough, though that day she was a little off. Or, at least, that's what Kurt had told him after Rachel and Mercedes had left the shop. Normally, she was bubbly and crazy and obnoxiously loud, in a suprisingly endearing way.

Blaine had yet to see this mythical side of Rachel Berry, and until he did, she was just a girl. Just another typical teenage girl.

Sighting numer three: McKinley High Football State Championship. Blaine didn't know it was her until Kurt gasped and turned to him with wide eyes and his jaw flapping, frantically pointing out the girls on the field. Blaine stopped listening after he was informed of which one was Rachel. This, at the time, did not strike him as peculiar, and Kurt certainly didn't notice his disinterest in anything else he had to say. Blaine focused in on Rachel as she was strutting down the field and beaming like the sun. So, she could be cheery. When one of the male players- Puck, he remembered- grabbed her helmet and said something unintelligible, Blaine heard her response of "Let's kick some ass!" louc and clear from the stands, though as he looked around, it appeared he was the only one who heard it.

As they all lined up for the first play and Rachel dropped into the most ridiculous stance possible, Blaine thought that okay, maybe she was a little endearing.

The Rachel Berry House Party Trainwreck Extravaganza. When Kurt called him and told him about it, he wasn't big on the idea; the McKinley glee kids didn't seem like his type of crowd. He declined the incitation. "But if you come, _all_ my friends will be there! Cedes, Rach..." Kurt had said before naming all the rest of his buddies, though Blaine had heard enough. So what, Rachel interested him. It was no big deal. She just seemed like an interesting person, almost magnetic in the way he was drawn to observe her. "You had me at Rachel." he had interrupted Kurt's rant to say. At Kurt's befuddled look, Blaine replayed his response in his head, spluttering, "Pretzels! You had me at pretzels! I love pretzels, don't you? They're my favorite snack food. Pretzels." when he realized what he had said. Yeah, it wasn't the greatest cover-up. After all, he was pretty positive Kurt hadn't even _said_ pretzel.

But it was something.

Kurt and Blaine had arrived first. Rachel opened the door for them and she and Kurt began chatting animatedly while Blaine stood to the side, silently observing Rachel and her house, pondering his growing interest in her. It certainly wasn't _romantic_ interest, of course. He was gay. So it must have been the fact that everyone kept describing her in this _way_, that she had this heavenly voice and an indescribable combination of personality traits. She was a star. Everyone kept saying that's who she was, but he didn't see it. Granted, he'd only seen her three times before, once from a distance, but Blaine wanted to experience this mythical Rachel Berry, wanted to know her. In a purely platonic way, mind you. So when the rest of the club arrived and somehow alchohol got involved and everyone was drunk off their asses and Rachel suggested Spin The Bottle, Blaine should have seen it coming. As if Fate had been reading his mind for the last week, Rachel spun the bottle and it landed on him. He hesitated, but she reached across the circle of rowdy teens and grabbed his collar, wrenching him forward and crushing their lips together.

It was quick. It was tainted with the taste of cheap wine. It was rough, forceful, even. But it was more than he had ever felt in his life.

And though he couldn't for the life of him explain why, Blaine wanted more.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

**AN: Thank you to everyone who read, and especially to those who reviewed! I honestly am so happy that you liked it! I totally understand why authors are always saying reviews are like crack haha. Anyway, I promised myself if even one person wanted this to continue, I'd do it, and a lot of people did, sooooo here I am. I'll most likely update around twice a week, maybe three, and always on a Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, so check back every so often. Don't take it easy on me, please. If you see something that could be improved, by all means tell me. Review and let me know what your favorite part was, your least favorite part, tell me I suck, tell me I rock, anything. I love it. Without further ado, Chapter Two (How cool am I for rhyming?).**

**Oh! One more thing: The first part was written as a sort of prologue so that it could double as a one shot if need be, so now it'll be more...story-like I guess you could say. Also, this is unedited, sorry for any mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: No.**

More didn't look like what Blaine was going to get, however. They had pulled apart slowly, eyes fluttering open and meeting. Rachelhad stared at him, emotions he couldn't name swirling in her russet eyes. He could only imagine what his must be showing. So he closed them again. To hide, to protect himself from Rachel and her hypnotic mannerisms, from the myriad of questioning looks, glowers, and blank stares alike coming from all directions. Someone cleared their throat, trying to ease the suddenly intensely awkward living room.

Blaine chanced a once-over of the room and its occupants, noticing how they would glance away quickly, almost guiltily, when his gaze skated over them.

"Oooooookay! Who's next?" Puck clapped his hands together eagerly, looking around to find the next spinner. When Tina voiced that she thought it was her turn, the tension seemed to dissapate and the game continued on, sans Blaine. He had gotten up and struggled his way to the kitchen for a glass of water and some quietude. He leaned on the marble counter, feeling decidely sober after the events of the night, yet still left with a splitting headache and a monumental sense of confusion.

"Where...have...you..._been_?"

Kurt's voice broke him out of his reverie. He was stumbling through the kitchen towards Blaine, running into counters and cabinets on the way. Blaine looked up at him, wincing as he did. What did allthis _mean_? Was he not gay? And if he wasn't...what about Kurt? What about their story? It was all too much to digest while in his current state of mind. Blaine shook his head,

"I, I...just really need some sleep. Monster headache," he pointed to his temple, attempting to chuckle.

Kurt nodded understandingly, giggling, "Of course. Have you ever been drunk, Blaine-Blaine?" Blaine closed his eyes and tipped his head back, groaning and shaking his head in the negative, "I know, right?" Kurt continued, "April Rhodes got me tipsy one time, um, last year, it was cuh-raaaaazy! I was like, blahhhhh" Kurt explained intelligently as he made a puking gesture with...well, with his whole body. He got so into it, falling to his knees and retching, laughing hysterically in between heaves.

Blaine could see this conversation was going nowhere while Kurt was drunk, so he sighed and grabbed Kurt off the floor, leading him back to the living room where everybody sat broken into small clusters of people, conversing away as if Blaine's whole world wasn't being turned upside down at the moment. He needed sleep. This could all be dealt with in the morning...maybe. His eyes caught Rachel's from where she was sitting on the couch, quietly watching everyone. She offered him a small smile and nodded to the stairwell. Blaine smiled gratefully, turning on his heel toward the stairs and promptly tripping over Brittany, who was on the floor bicycling her legs and giggling. Blaine let out a cry as he fell to the floor, his arm flailing out and slapping Finn across the face on the way down.

Finn looked around angrily, "Hey, watch it!" he growled as he lunged forward and punched who he thought was Blaine in the face. Sam looked livid as he nursed his bleeding lip,

"What the heeelll, dude?" They began to roll around on the floor, clawing at each others' faces and pulling hair. Wasn't that how girls were supposed to fight? Puck had decided to join in their 'brawl' out of boredom, and in the process of senselessly fighting, they had ran into Artie's wheelchair and somehow managed to knock him over. Brittany rushed to his aid, trying frantically to put a band-aid on Artie's finger. Quinn and Santana were both sitting in silence, glowering at the shattered glasses and assorted trash items strewn across the floor. Or maybe at the other students. The looks on their faces suggested the two were synonymous to them anyhow. Rachel was standing on the coffee table trying to get control of the situation, but her commands were coming out sounding like a mix between slurred Chinese and a Ke$ha song. Tina and Mike were nowhere to be found, and Mercedes was passed out in front of the TV with her mouth open, head tipped back against the front of the couch and a bucket of popcorn in her hand.

When it became apparent that the situation wasn't getting any better and he couldn't move to try and help out anyway, Blaine gave up on keeping his eyes open and succumbed to the welcoming embrace of sleep.

**BRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBR**

He awoke through much the same circumstance as right before he fell asleep. That is, through more bodily injury. There's nothing quite like opening your eyes to a new day, only to have your vision stripped away and the air knocked out of you by way of an enormous body collapsing onto your stomach. Nothing quite like it. It was, to say the least, almost like some almighty, unseen force was taunting him, playing games. Making him feel pain and confusion in return for feelings and sensations he couldn't help, much less justify. It was hell. It also did nothing for his throbbing head and aching body; his fall from the previous night had taken its toll.

"Oomph! Oh, man, I'm sorry I was juss tryn'a, tryn'a, um, get to the bathroom over there," Finn said, pointing to the couch Blaine was lying near, "I didn't see you and...stuff." Blaine nodded to get the giant to stop trying to explain himself, and surveyed the area. The various members of New Directions were littered across various items of furniture, still fast asleep, save for Finn who was desperately crawling toward the couch. Blaine sighed; this was not how he pictured the last twenty four hours going. When he tried to make a move to sit up, the pain in his head hit him in waves, almost pulsatingly. Instead he laid back down and let his thoughts drift.

The next thing he knew, someone was gently shaking him awake and offering him an apple. He slowly looked up and was met with the sight of a cheery looking Rachel Berry.

"Everyone's already up and had breakfast. Most of them have left as well. You looked entirely too far gone to even consider waking up, you know it's very unhealthy to interrupt one's sleep whilst they are recovering from any injuries or indiscretions," she said, nodding emphatically, "Speaking of injuries, are you alright? The memories are foggy, but I believe you took a pretty nasty fall last night."

Blaine struggled to sit up and found that his head felt nowhere near as bad as it had earlier. He shook his head in an attempt to gather his thoughts, and he realized that this was the first time he had ever spoken to Rachel one-on-one. The thought of it made him a little uneasy. He didn't know what to do; he still didn't know her all that well. Did he even _like _her? Nothing was clear. _Time,_ Blaine thought_, I need time. To think and sort through all this. _

_"_Yeah, I did, thanks," he pushed out, accepting her apple and taking a hearty bite. "Um, do you have the time?"

"11:27"

Blaine's eyes widened considerably. He _never_ slept in this late! Then again, he never got drunk and kissed pseudo-strangers and enjoyed it, like, a _lot_.

"Wow! Listen, I'm sorry, Rachel, I have to go..." he trailed off, for Rachel had chosen that moment to look unbearably, captivatingly- moreso than usual, at least- beautiful. He didn't know if it was the warm smile she was wearing or the fact that there was a lot she _wasn't_ wearing, or maybe that she was so adorably concerned about him. Whatever it was, Blaine had lost the ability to form sensible words. He stood up and looked at the door, an unspoken excuse for leaving left on his lips. He turned back to Rachel, who didn't push and nodded towards the door.

"I totally understand. Thanks for coming, Blaine," she said, nodding and holding her arms out for a friendly hug. Blaine immediately complied and wrapped her up in his arms, not eve realizing it when he instinctively pulled her flush against his body. As they stood there, Blaine came up with a million reasons to stay a little longer. Having Rachel this close was terrifying, exhilarating, and enticing. Everything he was trying to avoid right now, he reminded himself. This was unfamiliar territory, this..._feelings _thing. Unfamiliar and treacherous. He pulled away and cleared his throat, which had suddenly become inexplicably dry.

"Well I should probably..."

"Sorry for not waking you up earlier.."

Rachel blushed and gestured for Blaine to speak first. He didn't fight the grin that took over his face as he looked at her, "Hey, it's no big deal. I'll...talk to you later, Rachel." he said, walking out the door and to his car.

Rachel stood leaning against the doorframe, watching as he got into his car, waved, and drove away, a lingering smile on her lips.

As Blaine pulled away from the Berry household, he turned the radio on low and thought of how he still hadn't heard Rachel sing. Kurt never stopped tallking about how amazing she was, though he would never admit to the fact. Come to think of it, _everyone_ raved about Rachel's voice, and if she really was as good as her reputation, well, he was in a lot of trouble; she was hard enough to resist as it was. He shook his head, _Not what I need to be focusing on right now_, he thought. He drove around Lima aimlessly, trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly, it hit him like a rhino charging full speed ahead. He knew exactly who he needed to see before anything could be said or done for sure. Blaine pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number he knew by heart.

"Hello?" A sleepy voice answered.

"Kurt? Meet me at the Lima Bean in 10. We need to talk."

**So there it is! I apologize for it being so short, but I felt the need to just get the morning after out of the way and get the ball rolling, so yeah. Hope you liked!**


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt sighed as he entered the coffee shop. He was _not_ in a talking mood, and Blaine's tone over the phone didn't exactly point to a conversation Kurt would enjoy.

"Kurt! Over here," Blaine smiled and waved.

"Blaine," Kurt nodded briefly, "I hope you have an idea of how I'm going to be compensated for agreeing to have this horribly mistimed conversation. Do you have any idea how _early_ it is?"

Blaine ignored the fact that it was noon, choosing instead to pacify Kurt with his coffee, "Well, this couldn't wait."

Kurt raised his eyebrow, taking a sip from the cup he'd been handed. His headache took a backseat as the oppurtunity for fresh gossip consumed his mind.

"Really, now?" Kurt leaned forward and tapped his fingers on his chin conspirationally, always one for dramatic body language. "Go on."

Blaine closed his eyes, steeling himself for the talk. He wanted to get this over with; the sooner the better, right? But he wanted to do it right. Kurt, no matter what, was still Blaine's best friend and confidant, and he didn't know what he'd do if Kurt decided to abandon him now of all times. Taking a steadying breath, he looked up.

"I...you know what you do, when life gives you lemons?" Kurt's brow furrowed; whatever he was expecting the other boy to say, it wasn't that. Nevertheless, he'd see where this went.

"You...make lemonade?" Kurt questioned.

Blaine nodded, "So, what I need your help with is...what do you do when it throws a, say, monkey wrench into your proverbial wheel of life?"

_What the hell is that supposed to mean?_, Kurt thought, "I'm sorry, what? What are you trying to say, Blaine?"

"Okay, maybe that wasn't the best analogy. What I _meant_ to say, was that...well," he stumbled, trying to find the courage to say the next words, "I kind of sort of really like Rachel..."

Silence.

"Kurt?"

Blaine waved his hand over Kurt's blank eyes, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Right, sorry." Kurt folded his hands in his lap and looked Blaine in the eye, "Are...are you sure about this?"

The taller boy nodded, "Absolutely. But, I wanted to talk to you first because, um..." Blaine trailed off uncomfortably, not wanting to bring up Kurt's admission of feelings for Blaine a few weeks ago.

They fell silent again. Kurt had a pensive look on his face, quietly staring out the window over Blaine's left shoulder. After a few minutes, he broke it,

"Okay. Blaine, look, you're one of my best friends, and so is Rach," the pale boy began, "Although, if she keeps this whole 'steal-every-guy-I-like' thing up I might have to smack her," He tacked on teasingly. "So...I guess, if you like her, then...you have my blessing."

Blaine was stunned; whatever he was expecting Kurt to say, that had not been it,"Y-You mean it? You're serious?" Blaine beamed.

"No; what I meant to say was that you suck, I hate you and it would be in your best interest to pay for my coffee and get out of my face before I punch it." Blaine's gaze drifted to the table; that was more like what he felt he deserved. "Dummy, of course I meant it." Kurt said, almost comfortingly. Blaine let out a nervous laugh; now that he'd accomplished his goal for the conversation, he was becoming more and more aware of the fact that Kurt wasn't exactly a ray of light when his sleep was interrupted. More than anything, he now wanted to get out of here and get some sleep himself. He had to be well rested in order to look his best for his lady.

He cleared his throat, "Well, um, I actually think I might take you up on that, you know, I'm extremely tired and all." Blaine got up from the table and laid a ten in the middle, not caring that it was about four dollars too much. The dark haired boy took one last fond look at his friend and made his way back to his car.

"Well, bye." Kurt muttered, half raising his hand in farewell and slowly nodding off at the table until he was flat out sleeping in the middle of the shop, drool making its way out of his open mouth.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Ok, this isn't really much of anything, it's like barely 700 words. But I wanted to make sure everyone knew I haven't abandoned this story- I just have no ideas! I kind of wrote and posted this story on a whim, and I had no plot or anything outlined. I'm sad to say that if I can't come up with anything in the next few weeks, I actually might just leave it where it is, or delete the second chapter and leave it a one-shot. But if anyone can maybe contact me or leave a review with something you'd like to see or ideas for a plot, I will most definitely get on to writing it. I just, I have no clue where to go from here. I really want to continue, and I think some of you do too :P Anyway, till next time,

euphematic


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here it is! Thank you for all the the feedback and alerts, it really helps when I'm stuck with the writing to go back and read them. And joy, this story will indeed be continued! I really like this chapter :)**

Blaine slept until around three in the afternoon, and upon waking, he felt like a new man. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, hopping up and trekking to the kitchen, where he pulled out an apple and sat down at the table. He blew air out of his mouth and looked around the empty kitchen- the empty house. He took a bit out of the apple and munched mindlessly while tapping his knee to an unknown rythym.

Sometimes he wished his parents were around more often. Sometimes, he wished they cared a little more. Don't get him wrong, Blaine knew very well that his parents loved him- they'd made sure he always knew that if nothing else. But no number of 'I love you's could compensate for the fact that they were never around- always at a business meeting or away at a conference, even just out together. But never with him.

Blaine was startled when he saw a wet spot appear on the napkin he'd set down in front of him. He was...crying?

"Shit," he muttered, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He did not cry. _Especially_ about his parents. He'd dealt with it his whole life; he was used to being alone. And anyway, if they weren't going to love him like a parent should, he wouldn't waste the energy trying to pretend they did, or lament over the fact that they didn't, for that matter.

He stood abruptly from the table and returned to his bedroom, pulling on a simple jeans-and-t-shirt getup, topping it off with a unbuttoned dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

He couldn't waste time sulking over lost causes.

He had a lady to court.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So let's be clear, honey, we're going to be gone until tomorrow night, okay? And you are to clean up this atrocious mess before we return, yes?"

Rachel sighed glumly, "Yes, Daddy."

The man smiled and tapped Rachel's nose, "That's my girl." He glanced at his watch, "Well, we better get going if we're going to bypass rush hour traffic. Be safe and _no parties_." He warned, only half serious.

Rachel giggled as he pulled her into a hug, "I make no promises."

She stodd in the driveway and waved profusely until her fathers' car turned the corner, then her smile dropped and she trudged inside.

_At least one person could have stayed to help up instead of leaving it all to me_, she thought bitterly. They claimed to be a family, but none of them really cared for her, she knew.

_I'm a vehicle to Nationals, nothing else,_ she mused, _like a car. No, like a rocket- I am headed for stardom, after all._

She grabbed a trash bag and began slowly picking up the bottles, cups, wrappers, and was that toilet paper? She shook her head. Slow and steady, she could get this all done.

Her silent cleanup was disturbed by a knock on the door.

Rachel brightened, someone came to help? She hurried to the door, grabbing a little step-stool sitting by the door and using it to see through the peep hole, only to see, in all his curly glory, Blaine Anderson. _Oh my_.

She didn't know what to think about this boy. He was gay, sure, but just...the way he looked at her this morning, it was..._intense_. She wasn't sure what other kind of emotions or feelings beside pure _want_ could warrant the expressions he'd made. It left her more confused and slightly irritated than the time she'd tried to watch_ Lost_.

Nevertheless, she slapped on her showface and opened the door, "Greetings, Blaine!"

She watched the boy smile at her perkiness and maybe she melted a little.

"Hey, Rachel," he glanced past her into the house, "Whatcha up to?"

She wrinkled her nose, "Cleaning up. You wouldn't believe the mess that was made here." She rolled her eyes.

Blaine chuckled, "Those animals!" He said, eliciting a laugh from the girl.

"Well, not that I'm not happy to see you, but is there something you needed? Did-did you forget something?"

Blaine quirked an eyebrow, "No," he drew out the vowel, "I just came to see you."

Rachel couldn't have looked more surprised, "What? Why?" She asked bluntly.

He was caught off guard; why did she look so suspicious? "Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to spend time with you? I mean, I know we haven't ever really talked but I just, I want to know you." He admitted.

Rachel studied him; he looked earnest enough. The tension fell out her shoulders, "Sorry. It's just that no one ever really taken time out of their day to spend time with _me_. I'm not used to it; I didn't mean to be rude."

Blaine stepped forward, holding his arms out for a hug, which Rachel readily accepted. "Well," he whispered into her hair, "I'd be absolutely _honored_ if you would spend the rest of the day with me."

Rachel sighed into his chest. This was not happening- she could not be crushing on a gay guy. That's just _begging_ to get hurt. She pulled away, and smiled up at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. Blaine seemed to sense her melancholia. She grabbed his hand and tried to pull him inside, but he held back.

"Actually, I forgot, my Mom is sick and I need to pick up her medicine from the pharmacy. Is it okay if I come back in, say, an hour? We can tackle this mess together." He smiled.

Rachel drooped again, afraid he had changed his mind about spending time with her.

Blaine saw this and quickly remedied it, "Hey, I promise I'll be back soon. I don't want you to lift a finger until I'm here to help you."

She smiled gently, "Okay," she agreed, releasing her grip on his hand.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Blaine straightened out his shirt and raised his hand, knocking firmly on the door.

A few seconds passed before the door opened a crack and a hazel eye peeked out at him. He smiled sheepishly and waved a little.

"Aren't you that Warbler dude?" The blond queried as she opened the door fully with a raised eyebrow.

Blaine rubbed the back of his neck; this chick could be _scary_. "Uh, yeah..."

The girl put her hand on her hip and stared at him, silently asking him why the hell he was there. Blaine considered diving into the bushes a few feet away to escape her gaze, but he reminded himself that this was for Rachel.

He started again, "Well, I'm here to ask for your help."

"I'm listening."

"U-uh," he stammered, not sure how to pose the question he wanted to ask, "It's about Rachel."

She raised her other eyebrow, "Oh?" Blaine nodded. They were silent.

"What makes you think I'd want to do anything for Berry? As far as you are concerned, I hate her."

"No, you don't, " Blaine spoke softly, trying to coax her into the truth.

"The hell I do! How would _you_ know anything anyway?" She bit. Blaine faltered, "Oh, that's right, you _don't_." Did she just _growl_? Blaine mentally shuddered and mustered all the calm and confidence he had; he could potentially be punched in the face in a few seconds.

"The simple fact that you haven't slammed the door in my face tells me that, A) you _do _care about Rachel on some level and B), you're _not_ a bitch, Quinn, no matter how hard you try to project that image to me."

He watched as, just like that, the cheerleader seemed to retract her claws. It appeared he had known more than she thought, after all.

She leaned against the door frame, crossed her arms and sighed exasperatedly - her way of admitting defeat without wounding her pride, "Okay, what the hell do you want me to do, anyway?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rachel blew a stray hair out of her face and turned the page in her book. She anxiously glanced at the digital clock by her bedside. It had been an hour and fifteen minutes, where in the world was Bl-

_Ding dong!_

She smiled and jumped up, setting the book down (She hadn't really been reading it, anyway.) and hurrying down the stairs. She felt like one of those ninjas in the movies that have to step through laser-alarm systems as she nimbly hopped over the trash and debris downstairs. As she approached the door, she reigned in her excitement; she didn't want to seem, you know, over excited or anything. Because she _wasn't_.

Rachel opened the door, "Hey-" she stopped and her jaw slacked, dumbfounded at the sight before her.

The entire glee club was standing on (and around) her doorstep, all equipped with trash bags, cleaning supplies, gloves, and the works, complete with face-splitting grins that were tinted with apologies.

Quinn spoke first, "Hi...Rachel."

Rachel was still gaping, and nodded wordlessly in acknowledgement.

"We're all here to help you clean up." Finn piped in, and Rachel supressed an eye roll.

Santana did roll her eyes, shooting Finn a look of disdain, "No shit, Sherlock."

Finn looked angry but said nothing.

"Anyway, it was Blaine here's idea," Quinn continued, jerking her thumb at the boy who was fronting the pack, smiling eagerly at Rachel.

"Yeah, and we're all sorry for up and leaving all the clean up to you," Mercedes stated sincerely.

"We were real assholes." That was Sam, followed by a general murmur of agreement from the rest of them.

Rachel finally cracked a blinding smile, a lone tear sliding down her cheek.

"Hey now, don't cry. Just show us where the mess is," Puck soothed. Rachel couldn't believe this; they were _all_ here on a Sunday to help her clean her filthy house, albeit, it was _their _mess, but still.

She dried her tear and opened the door wider, letting them all file in.

"Good god," Artie breathed as his eyes went wide.

There was a similar reaction from each of the club members before Quinn spoke up, "Well, we've got our work cut out for us, don't we guys?"

Santana clapped her hands together, "We need some music, 'cause I don't know about you guys, but I cannot work with quiet."

"Good call," Puck said, turning to Rachel, "You got a dock?"

Rachel nodded, "In my room, you can bring it down here and plug it in." She craned her neck and called up the stairs, "And no rifling through my unmentionables, Noah!"

They heard a faint "_Damn" _from the staircase and chuckled.

Puck returned and set up the dock. He stuck his hand out behind him, "iPod," he grunted, and was handed one by Sam. He plugged it in and soon the opening of Justin Bieber's 'Never Say Never' filled the room.

They all turned to look at Sam, then burst out laughing. Sam flushed, "Shut up! It's good workout music, okay? For when I'm, " he coughed, "pumping iron." He broadened his shoulders, trying to salvage his dignity.

Kurt patted him on the back, "Uh huh."

Puck pressed _next_.

_"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world,"_

He looked over his shoulders with a smirk, "_Hell_ yeah. Let's get to work, bitches."

Everyone laughed and started to clean up, all of them singing along to the song that started this all.

Rachel pulled Blaine aside, "You did this," she said shyly.

Blaine shook his head, "No, it was just my idea; they could've all shut the door on me. They care about you, Rachel, they just suck at showing it."

Rachel laughed, "I guess you're right."

Blaine fiddled with the hem of his shirt, "So...you're happy, then?" He asked nervously.

Rachel glanced into the living room where the glee club was belting out _Don't Stop Believing _and making post-party cleanup look like the funnest thing in the world.

She turned back to Blaine, grinning from ear to ear, "You have no idea." She grabbed his hand and skipped back into the fray, "It goes on and on and on and on," she added her voice to the mix, doing her and Finn's trademark spin with all of the glee clubbers in turn, overcome by the love and cameraderie radiating through the room.

"_Don't Stop_!"


	5. Chapter 5

Contrary to popular belief, Rachel Berry was not clingy. She didn't need to be around people all the time- quite the opposite, actually. Rachel savored her alone time, loved basking in the sound of silence. Sometimes, she listened to music during these moments; it was cathartic. It was also her way of preparing herself for auditions, instilled a peaceful confidence in her that she was grateful for come the actual audition.

Really, she cherished it. Except that today, she couldn't. Her mind wouldn't shut up, so instead of relaxing and settling into repose, she was plagued with thoughts of Blaine Anderson.

Did she like him? Yes. No. Maybe. God, she didn't know! But she had to; undefined feelings for a friend were at the top of the list of things Rachel did _not_ want. So she dragged herself to her desk and opened a word document on her laptop to do what she always did when conflicted over something: a Pro-Con list.

**The Pros and Cons of Blaine Anderson, Whom I Possibly Have Romantic Feelings For:**

**Pros:**

**1. Attractive**

**2. Musically talented**

**3. Proper oral hygiene**

**4. Well-groomed**

**5. Lead of Dalton Academy's choir (good leading man potential!)**

**6. Friends with my friends**

**7. Thoughtful**

**8. Proactive**

**9. Goal Oriented**

**10. Able to uphold intelligient conversation**

**11. Has varied interests**

**Cons:**

**1.** **Gay**

She sighed as she stared at the screen before her. This did absolutely nothing to make her feel better. Luckily, distraction came in the form of her phone ringing.

She picked it up, her heart speeding up in the slightest when she read the name on the Caller ID. She pressed the talk button, steadying her shaky breath. "Hello?"

"Rachel, hey! What's up?"

"Hello, Blaine, I'm doing...fine."

"Just fine?"

"Yes." She replied shortly.

"Well, that won't do!" He said playfully, "Do you want to hang out?"

_Don't do it, Rachel! _"Yes," She breathed, cursing herself for sounding so eager.

"Great! You wanna just come over? I can text you my address."

_This is a dangerous game_, she thought. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you in a little bit."

"Awesome," God, she could _hear_ his smile, "Bye!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Blaine was sitting on his front porch when Rachel pulled into his driveway. She got out of her car and locked the door, smoothing her shirt down as she took in the sight of Blaine with his feet perched on the wooden table in front of him. He hadn't noticed her; he had absurdly bright purple headphones on, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. She took one last look down at her outfit- she'd chosen to wear decidedly _short_ shorts, as an...experiment, and approached the oblivious boy.

He seemed to sense her presence when she got close enough, because he cracked an eye open as soon as she set foot on the porch. A smile broke out on his face, disarming Rachel with it's charm. He hastily took his headphones off and got up, and she could hear the faint sound of "She's Got A Way". _Interesting..._

"Hi," he breathed, still grinning.

"Hey," She couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey," Blaine echoed.

Rachel laughed lightly, "Can I, you know, come in?" She gestured to the door.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he blushed and turned to open the door for her and Rachel followed. She resisted the urge to pump her fist in triumph when she noticed his eyes deliberately trail up her legs when she stepped through the entrance.

Once they were inside, Blaine slipped his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, "So...are you hungry? I'm sure there's some fruit in the fridge waiting to be eaten, if you feel so inclined."

Come to think of it, she hadn't eaten since seven that morning; she'd been too _distracted._

"Well now that you mention it, I'm famished."

"Cool, what's your favorite? I'm pretty sure we have every fruit imaginable in here," he chuckled, opening the fridge door and peering inside.

Rachel smirked, moving to lean on the counter behind him, "Starfruit?"

He stood up with a raised eyebrow, "Those aren't in season, smarty pants. How about an apple?"

She accepted the proffered fruit, taking a bite. "Mmm."

Blaine chuckled and hopped up onto the counter next to where she was standing, his legs dangling near her elbow. He patted the counter beside him, "Come up here, I'm lonely."

Rachel complied, commenting when she got settled, "Wow, I've never seen the world from this high up."

"Yeah?" Blaine laughed, "Me neither."

She slapped his arm, "Stop. You're not _that _short."

"Ouch," he playfully rubbed his arm, "but yeah, I know. Still, I like to be the taller person in my relationships, and you'd be surprised how few people are suitably short enough for me."

Rachel swallowed back her compulsive reply of "I am", instead clearing her throat. Blaine seemed to pick up on the tension and reached behind him to grab a T.V remote.

"T.V?" He questioned, turning on a television on the counter Rachel hadn't noticed before.

She tilted her head questioningly at the presence of a T.V in the kitchen. Blaine flushed slightly and explained, "I, um, like to cook, so I kind of spend a good amount of time in here. But I'm usually alone when I cook, so I put a small T.V in here to fill the silence." He shrugged.

She nodded, "I see."

They settled into comfortable silence as Blaine searched the channels for something interesting. Rachel scoffed when he stopped at "1000 Ways to Die".

"Really, Blaine?"

He put his hands up, "What? It's cool!"

"Please, 'Death by Industrial Shredder'? That's not even remotely _plausible_." She sniffed and made a mental note to add "Watches ridiculous television shows" to the con side of her list when she got back home. "Plus," she added, "it's just depressing."

"Fine then, _you_ pick," he said in mock offense, pushing the remote toward her like a thrown gauntlet. "And make sure it's _plausible_." He teased, a challenge in his eyes.

She narrowed her eyes and accepted the remote every bit as dramatically as he had offered it. "Challenge accepted," she stated and began perusing the channels until she found the perfect one. She dropped the remote in Blaine's lap and crossed her arms defiantly, "There, perfect."

Blaine snorted, "TV Guide." He looked at Rachel with an amused smile. She raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips, daring him to change it. "My _favorite_," he said sarcastically, playfully rolling his eyes. Rachel leaned into him and rested her forehead on his shoulder, erupting into giggles. Blaine wrinkled his nose and poked her temple, "You contrarian."

When she was done laughing, she pushed off of him and took a last bite of her apple. She looked around the kitchen for a trashcan.

"Behind you," Blaine prompted, snickering.

"I knew that," she muttered indignantly.

"I bet you can't make it into the trash from here...backwards," he dared. Rachel made a face as if to say 'Oh, really?' and poised herself to throw the apple core. Her method of 'preparing' to throw had Blaine in stitches. Rachel was quietly singing 'We Are the Champions' to herself and rolling her shoulders. She scowled at him as he laughed, and finally tossed the core behind her.

They both turned around just in time to see it bounce off the rim and fall into the trashcan. Rachel raised her arms in victory, "Ha!" She snatched a spoon from the jar of plastic utensils on her right and began singing into it, "No time for losers," she pointed at Blaine, "'cause weeee are the champiooooons, dun dun...of the woooooorld!"

"Alright, alright, I get it, cease the mockery!" he said dramatically over her singing.

"What do I win?" She said cheekily, nudging him with her elbow.

"My eternal love," he joked with a cocky grin.

"That's all?" Rachel scoffed, "I would think my spectacular feat would merit something a little less trivial than _eternal love_." She teased back.

Blaine saw the perfect oppurtunity to do what he'd been itching to do since they kissed. He gathered his confidence; it was now or never. "Well, actually, I was thinking maybe-"

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry for interrupting, but I forgot to tell you! Kurt organized a karaoke night tomorrow evening at Dick's Wings, which, can I just say, _yuck_. Anyway, he invited the whole club and I was hoping you'd come too."

Blaine gritted his teeth. He wasn't sure he could muster up the nerve to repeat what he'd been about to say, at least not right now. He made a mental note to cancel his dinner reservations for two that night at that new cafe a few streets over. On the bright side, agreeing to this karaoke night was a good way for him to finally _really_ hear Rachel sing, drunken duets aside. Left with no other choice, he agreed.

"Great!" Rachel chirped, "Now what was it you were saying?"

Blaine was silent for a moment, but he was warring with himself inside. Should he try again? _It couldn't hurt_, he reasoned. "Right. I was going to ask you-" he winced as his voice cracked. He swallowed thickly, "If you wanted to put it on a real show now." He weakly gestured to the tv, "I mean, as much as I love TV Guide, I can only take so much."

Rachel laughed and reached across him for the remote, "But of course."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

As she pulled into the parking lot of the Lima Community Theater, Rachel tried desperately to quell the fluttering in her stomach. Her routine pre-audition afternoon of relaxation had been cut short, and she was paying for it now.

She pushed open the double doors and cut through the lobby to enter the waiting room. She discreetly surveyed the room's occupants. Nearly every other hopeful had at least one person with them for moral support. It made her briefly second guess her vow to always attend auditions alone. Only briefly, though. Rachel didn't like to tell other people about her auditions unless she ended up getting the part. That way, she never bore news of failure, only of success.

This particular audition was important to her; it was for the summer production of Funny Girl. Honestly, how could she _not_ audition for this? It was her dream to play Fanny Brice, if only on a small community stage.

A stiff "Next!" broke her out of her thoughts. She glanced around and realized that was her cue. She grabbed her purse and walked through the door into a small, sound-proof room, uttering a quick "Thank you" to the doorman.

"Name?" One of the men sitting at a table questioned, not bothering to look up from his clipboard.

"Rachel Berry, Sir."

"Alright, Ms. Berry, what will you be singing today, then?"

"My Man."

He met her eyes for the first time, surprise evident in them. He raised his eyebrows, "This'll be the first time we've heard that one today, believe it or not."

The woman next to him nodded, "Nearly everyone's done _Don't Rain_."

"Well- I can do that too, if you'd like." She offered quickly.

The man waved a hand, "No, no, please, it's a breath of fresh air. Why don't you go on ahead now?"

Rachel nodded and sucked in a deep breath as she felt her nerves leave her. The opening notes of "My Man" ushered the silence out of her head, and she closed her eyes, imagining the scene in her mind. As she opened her mouth and began to sing, she just let go. This was the way it always was when she sang; nothing else mattered- nothing else existed, not even her.

The way Rachel saw it, she was, put simply, just a medium through which art is expressed, as was every artist. She found something profound in that mindset; that she was here to express and exemplify emotions and principles that had no other method of release.

As much as she wanted (and expected) stardom, Rachel Berry's real goal in life was to move people. She would be happy so long as she was invoking some kind of feeling in her audience, because lord knows people were already numb enough.

It was with these thoughts floating through her mind that she sang, and she executed everything perfectly in all respects.

When she finished, she slowly opened her eyes and refocused them onto the casting directors. They had mostly nonchalant faces, but the woman was scribbling furiously on her clipboard, and the man was looking at Rachel with a, dare she say it, proud though faint smile on his lips.

"Thank you, Ms. Berry, we'll be in touch." The woman said with finality. Rachel had always hated that line; it was too...ambiguous.

Nevertheless, she smiled and nodded, making her way out of the room and through the lobby. As she passed the receptionist, the girl offered a perfunctory, cheery "How'd you do?".

Rachel bit her lip in an attempt to reign in her smile, "Magnificent."

**Next chapter: Karaoke Night! Reviews are more than welcome :)**


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